


mistletoe

by turtle_abyss



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21737545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtle_abyss/pseuds/turtle_abyss
Summary: The cold brings back some bad memories, but his husband reminds him of warmth.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 7
Kudos: 94





	mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sleep-deprived and this is unbeta'd. Also, it's very short. Yeah.

He shivers.

"FRI, why's it cold?" he asks quietly.

"Power's out, boss. In most of Manhattan. Backup generators are on for emergency power, but it’s not enough."

"Ah."

"Would you like me to-"

"No, I can handle a little cold," he murmurs, going back to his wiring.

He should get up and get a sweater, at the very least. It's winter. There's a blizzard outside.

But he needs to get the compound’s reactor back up after last week’s training mishap that the team tried to fucking hide because they knew he’d be pissed.

And now he has to rebuild half these circuits from scratch.

He could be at home in his nice warm cabin cuddling up to his husband with mugs of hot cocoa.

But no.

The arc reactor was busted.

Fucking Ant-Man.

Still, it’s not long before the shivering devolves into cool numbness. His heart slows. His eyes droop.

The solder slips and catches his fingers.

_Hot metal and cold stone._

_A forge he scraped together from scraps._

_Clang._

_Clang._

_Clang._

He jerks back from the worktable, foot caught on a chair leg, and tumbles backwards.

_The breath knocked from his lungs as his back hits the ground._

_Don't leave me alone, buddy._

His head bounces against the floor.

_Snow and ice and blue eyes colder than that._

_Steve, no._

_Steve, stop._

_Don't hurt me don't hurt me don'thurtme._

He curls into himself to protect himself.

It's all he can do as remembered blows slam into him and the cold freezes him from the inside out.

_Snow._

_His mother's face._

_The way she sang Christmas carols and the way she called for his father with her last strangled breath._

_Ice._

_The way his heart froze when Howard first called him useless and foolish and as he begged for help for_ **_mom_** _._

"Help," he croaked faintly as the _blue sky went dark and oxygen deprivation numbed his hands and rapid heat loss numbed his body and horror numbed his mind._

"Tony?" he hears from far away.

_So far away._

_Solar systems away._

_Maybe even galaxies._

_Stephen._

_Where are you?_

_I'm so cold without you._

"Tony, breathe."

He gasps.

He'd do anything that voice said.

"Vishanti, you're freezing," he hears as he’s tugged upright and wrapped in pure blissful warmth. “Come on, let’s go home and get you warm,” Stephen murmurs in his ear as he hauls him up on numb feet and shaky legs. He leans heavily into his warmth, forcing Stephen to mostly carry him through shimmering orange.

“Wait,” he protests weakly, pushing at Stephen’s arm. “The reactor-”

“It can wait.”

“They’ll be cold.”

“No one is here, darling. They all found places to stay after the reactor went down. It’s okay.” A hand pets his hair and he can’t help but lean into the touch, exhaustion weighing him down.

“I’m tired.”

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, even though they’re not the same thing. Their living room is warm though, and he allows himself to be bundled in a thick blanket and settled on the couch. He only whines when Stephen pulls away with a kiss to his forehead.

The fireplace crackles and pops as he hears dishes clattering in the kitchen. He hears Stephen swear lowly and worries, but doesn’t have the energy to do much more than make a questioning noise that likely wasn’t heard. He hopes it wasn’t his hands.

There’s no patter of tiny feet or soft laughter. No little legs kneeing him in the stomach on the way for a hug.

“Where’s Morgan?” he asks as he hears the swearing stop and soft, measured footsteps approach.

“With Pepper and Happy. Figured she could use some girl time and I could use some Tony time.”

“Oh,” Tony responds with a tiny grin as Stephen presses a mug into his hands - warm and not full, just as Tony has become accustomed to - and then sits beside him, cozying up to his side. Tony takes a shaky sip, his shivers returning as he gets warmer, and is surprised to taste chocolate instead of coffee.

The surprise must show on his face because Stephen laughs.

“No coffee. I doubt you’ve been sleeping,” he says teasingly and Tony marvels at the lack of an accusation.

The Christmas tree they’d put up at the beginning of the month sparkles and glimmers in ways not entirely within the realm of physics as they drink side by side quietly, basking in the warmth of each other. There is a contentment in his chest that swells and warms him all throughout.

When they finish, he sets their mugs on the coffee table and settles in to snuggle up against his husband. Wrapped in his arms, everything is perfect.

Then he catches a flash of red from the corner of his eye and peers up to see the Cloak with a small sprig of mistletoe and laughs.

Stephen looks up at his laughter and frowns. “That’s poisonous. Where did you get that? Why did you bring it ins-?”

Tony cuts him off with a kiss, overwhelmed by the love he feels.

He’s lost so much, but this right here? With the love of his life and the warm home they’ve built around them? This is perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me at turtlewritesthings on tumblr. I am a sociable turtle even if I'm slow.


End file.
